


A Little Bit

by stephanericher



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-06-01 02:18:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6496924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephanericher/pseuds/stephanericher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And Imayoshi reckons they might have been too close before, that this kind of change is what’s supposed to happen. It doesn’t hurt; it just feels a little strange after three years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Bit

It's a little stupid to assume that just because they’re graduating everything’s going to change, but it’s more than a little naïve to assume everything won’t. Part of it’s the expectation of things changing that drives them to make and perceive changes; part of it’s the necessary changes (like not living in the Touou dorms anymore) and part of it’s just the passage of time, but regardless of the cause something’s going to happen. And it’s not hard for Imayoshi to see that his and Susa’s relationship (as it is) might be one of the casualties.

It isn’t at first; they don’t say anything about it, treading around the subject like it’s a rotting piece of floorboard, but sooner or later they have to do something about it or else Imayoshi reckons everything else is going to rot, too. But somehow, he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t say anything when he wakes up in his bed and Susa’s not there, or when Susa returns his text messages a little too late, or when they keep pushing back when they’re going to meet for coffee or one-on-one.

It’s probably better this way, to let it fall apart as it had existed, ambiguously. There’s something unrealistically poetic about it, and were they still close he might have teased Susa. But right now he can’t; right now he’s not going to say anything—it’s not because he’s scared, mind you. He reckons he’s just not sure there’s anything that should be said in this matter, that’s all, especially if Susa just wants him to go away.

And so the year spirals toward the fall and Imayoshi returns Susa’s calls less and less. Where he once might have made room in his schedule for Susa, he doesn’t budge (and Susa doesn’t push). He doubles down on schoolwork and joins a streetball team (to which he consciously does not invite Susa) and for a time it seems to work. He’s just letting go, and it’s weird because he’d been unnecessarily attached to Susa, a little too used to being with him, to seeing him and hearing his opinion even on matters that were never put up for debate. And Imayoshi reckons they might have been too close before, that this kind of change is what’s supposed to happen. It doesn’t hurt; it just feels a little strange after three years.

He’s not expecting Susa to show up at one of his games, though. They haven’t been in contact for weeks—Susa had texted him a while back asking if he’d wanted to hang out and Imayoshi hadn’t responded, and that had been that. Imayoshi doesn’t even recall telling Susa about the team, but he reckons Susa could have seen them when they were on TV (except he didn’t say anything about it—but then again, they haven’t seen each other since before then) or he could have asked Momoi (and Susa might—assuming he cared enough and he’s not just in a certain place at a certain time).

He’s not surprised to see Susa waiting for him outside the locker room when it’s over, basketball magazine in one hand and can of coffee in the other (because no matter how much things change, some are always the same).

“Hey,” says Susa.

“Hi,” says Imayoshi. “Might I ask what exactly you’re doing here?”

“Waiting for you,” says Susa. “I want to talk.”

Curious.

“Anything in particular on your mind?”

“Yeah, actually,” says Susa.

He pours what’s left of the coffee down his throat and tosses the can into the garbage a few feet away.

“Impressive,” says Imayoshi.

“Thanks,” says Susa.

They begin to walk, and Susa stuffs his free hand into his pocket. He doesn’t say anything, but Imayoshi waits. He’s not sure where this is going. Their relationship is basically nonexistent at this point, and Susa’s not one for formalities, not going to tell him to stop calling when he doesn’t call in the first place. There are certain things Susa avoids, and Imayoshi embarrassing him for something like this ought to be high on that list, unless, of course, Susa doesn’t really care. And maybe he doesn’t.

“Look,” says Susa.

His breath condenses, a flash in the air. Imayoshi cocks his head.

“I don’t know what we are—were. Friends, boyfriends, friends with benefits, whatever. But right now, we kind of aren’t—you’re avoiding me, and I’m kind of avoiding you, and if you don’t want me around that’s fine; it’s your decision and I’d like to know.”

Well. Imayoshi stops; Susa walks another step and then turns to peer into his face.

“Why not just be on your way then?”

“Because I care about you and I miss being your whatever. I miss you.”

Imayoshi reckons now isn’t the time for him to tell Susa not to get all sappy and emotional on him. And he couldn’t say it even if it was the right time. Susa’s being a little too serious, looking Imayoshi a little too straight in the face, and, well. It’s almost a little unfair, and Imayoshi hadn’t known—hadn’t really considered—that Susa actually felt this way, that he was attached this seriously.

“Well,” says Imayoshi.

He’s kind of missing having longer hair, bangs that dripped down onto his eyebrows and covered more of his face, kept less of it bared to Susa. It’s not even that he’s making a choice, but saying it like this—he’s not that kind of guy. Which Susa knows, of course.

“Friends?” Susa probes. “Fuck buddies? Boyfriends?”

And Susa knows Imayoshi knows already, and there’s no reason to draw this out.

“How about all three?”

“That’s kind of greedy,” says Susa.

His smile betrays him, tugging at the corners of his weary lips.

“You shouldn’t offer what you’re not prepared to give,” says Imayoshi, matching the expression.

Susa shifts on his feet; this is the part where if he was the dashing hero of a drama or a romantic comedy or even an action movie he’d give Imayoshi a big damn kiss. He doesn’t, and Imayoshi reckons that’s a little bit bold even for him. Susa jerks his shoulder toward the end of the block. They start walking, falling back into an easy pace. The leaves on the trees are turning red and brown, but they’re too slick with water for the fallen ones to crunch beneath their feet.

“What, no ‘Oh, Darling, let me walk you home?’”

Susa snorts. “I’m not giving you pet names. And my place is closer.”

“Are you inviting me in? How cavalier.”

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

The relief has seeped into Susa’s words like the rain saturating the soil. He really had missed Imayoshi, and if Imayoshi was going to say sappy things like that he might say he’d missed Susa, too. But, as things are between the two of them now, he doesn’t need to.

**Author's Note:**

> 4/7 imasusa. yeah it's late but /shrugs


End file.
